


even when it’s dark (i’ll help you find a light)

by spideynamu



Series: irondad bingo: halloween edition [8]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Peter Parker Calls Tony Stark "Dad", Peter Parker Has Nightmares, Peter Parker is a Mess, References to Depression, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, only once tho sry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 18:37:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21040886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spideynamu/pseuds/spideynamu
Summary: Peter had never liked the darkness, and the darkness didn’t like him either—all he just wanted to do was find a light.(bingo prompt: darkness)





	even when it’s dark (i’ll help you find a light)

**Author's Note:**

> uhhhhhh i don’t know what this is tbh, it just be sad boi hours ngl lolz — i’m pretty sure tomorrow’s story is gonna be cute yAY

Darkness and Peter Parker had never really been the best of friends.

Peter felt as if that’s what his whole life was—shrouded by darkness, even when he was happy.

He had no idea how quickly his whole world could flip upside down when his parents left for that doomed flight.

The first night without his parents was spent alone inside his guest bedroom at his aunt and uncle’s.

He thought he saw something move in the corner of his eye, but Peter sat there with silent tears tracing his cheeks, the darkness surrounding him like an unwelcome hug.

Why wouldn’t Mama and Daddy come back?

Peter tried his best to stay away from the dark after that—he promised to be a good kid for Uncle Ben and Aunt May.

He knew they didn’t want kids, and yet they still took him in.

He tried to see the bright side of everything as much as he could—and Peter knew sometimes thinking like that didn’t help him at all, but he refused to stay in the dark if he could help it.

Sure, a kid had pushed him down the stairs and stolen his lunch money—but now that kid could buy lunch and he really wasn’t _that_ hungry.

But there were moments where he felt like he couldn’t stop the darkness, no matter how much he tried to. 

An accident at Oscorp, a seemingly harmless spider bite. The after effects had blinded him with pain, sweat soaked his body as lay there on his bed, shaking from the pain.

It was so excruciating all he remembered was _pain_ before he blacked out.

When Peter woke up, it was to a completely different body—he didn’t need his glasses anymore, he was fit, something in his chest felt lighter—but he was still the same Peter Parker.

Everything in his life had been great after the bite—he was just so _happy_—until he and Ben had gotten into an argument.

“Peter, you can’t keep going out late, it’s not safe.”

He knew that Uncle Ben was right, he might’ve had secret superpowers but that wouldn’t help him if he barely knew how to use them.

Peter didn’t know why he did it, why he ignored Ben and slammed the door behind him, running as far away as he could—Ben right on his heels.

“Come back, Peter you can’t—shit!” 

He turned around, horrified to see Ben—his uncle who was a cop, always strong, never falling—on the ground, a gunshot wound flowing red in his chest.

Peter fell to his knees, rushing over to him, _apply pressure_ his mind supplied him, but he knew it wasn’t enough, he was too slow.

“Uncle Ben, please, please, I’m so sorry don’t—don’t go,” he cried, still attempting to apply more pressure to the wound.

“Son, look at me,” Ben whispered, and Peter reluctantly met his eyes, “great power comes—comes with great responsibility.”

Ben didn’t say I love you to him, but Peter knew he meant it.

And as Peter heard his last breath so painfully clear in his ears, all he could do was sob—this was all _his_ fault.

When May found out what happened, Peter caught her as she stood there, a cry of disbelief escaping her.

The two Parkers spent the rest of the night leaning against each other, Ben’s presence a gaping hole in their hearts as they cried.

He sensed that May was nearly asleep, and he felt bad for leaving her alone—but he had to do _something._

The next night, Spider-Man appeared, born from the guilt of a teenager that just wanted to do good—Peter vowed to stop something like that from ever happening to anyone else.

He loved being Spider-Man—Spider-Man didn’t need to worry about midterms or Flash nearly running him over, or listening to every word the other kids said about him.

Sometimes he had to hide a few bruises and scratches from May, but they all usually healed by the next day with no trouble.

But sometimes even he didn’t want to go out as Spider-Man, he was just so tired.

Tired of everything, the teachers assigned too much homework, his apartment complex was so fucking loud sometimes, and everything was just _too_ much.

Yet he continued to pull the red mask over his face every night, ignoring his body that so desperately craved sleep and rest.

He’d never be able to rest when it was Ben’s dying face—sometimes his mind was cruel and it would be May—he would always be reminded of when he closed his eyes.

At one point, he did crash and burn, his eyes were red rimmed as he stared at himself in the mirror, his head pounding.

Peter knew he’d have to set a schedule now, he’d patrol himself to death if continued like this.

And so he started his new routine—school, homework, patrol, repeat. But with every life he saved and the smiles he got when a child waved at him, Peter still felt like he was stuck in his own mind, everyday was a blur as he forced himself to keep going.

He was so tired, but he could _not_ stop.

But when he saw Tony Stark casually sitting in his living room, that darkness that threatened to consume him whole everyday was fought by the small flicker of a flame.

There was hope—he knew it sounded stupid, but something seemed to make sense for once.

Germany was memories of a metal arm, some guy in a wingsuit yelling at him, and Happy grumbling at him for going out as Spider-Man instead of sleeping.

After that, Peter tried to return to _his_ normal, but by now that flicker of hope was nearly a blazing fire—he knew he could make a bigger difference to the world, he just didn’t know how he would. 

Peter’s homecoming was for lack of a better word—a disaster—he was fighting his date’s dad instead of dancing with her in the auditorium and offering her watery punch.

But after the Vulture fiasco, Peter felt all the tension in his chest release, his nerves, his worries, just _everything_ finally loosened—the best he’s felt in years.

After the Vulture, things were different, and he knew that the darkness would always linger—so he’ll have to try and make his own light.  
__

Peter had been awake for two days straight by the time he got to the Compound, eyes dropping as he nearly tripped on the way to the entrance.

He missed the concerned glance Happy sent him, barely registering FRIDAY’s happy greeting.

By the time he reached the lab, he planted face first onto a table, listening to Mr. Stark’s comforting voice as he started talking to Peter about something.

Peter felt kind of bad for not listening, but he could barely open his eyes, let alone listen.

“Kid?” Tony asked, wondering where Peter’s usual rambling was.

He turned around, finally noticing the kid had claimed a table as his new bed. 

“Hey, kid, bedtime now,” Tony murmured, snorting at the Spider-Kid—how the hell did his neck not hurt?

“‘M not tired, Mr. Stark,” Peter yawned, and Tony frowned at how _tired_ he looked.

Before Peter could protest, Tony was already guiding him to the couch, gently pushing him down before reaching for his favorite blanket.

“Kiddo, when was the last time you slept?” Tony asked, his voice softer this time as he studied Peter—he looked like him after working for three days straight in the lab, which was absolutely unacceptable.

“Um, I slept last night,” Peter started, sighing as Mr. Stark gave him a pointed stare, “two days ago, I mean.”

“Kiddie, you’re a growing Spider-Baby, you need sleep.” Tony lectured, his fingers working through the snags in Peter’s hair.

Peter looked up at him, something more vulnerable in his eyes as he looked at Mr. Stark—and he really didn’t wanna cry in front of him but he couldn’t help it, he was just _tired._

Tony immediately pulled Peter into a hug, whispering little assurances to him.

“Everytime I close my eyes, Mr. Stark,” Peter said, voice barely above a whisper, “it’s like I’m back there again, and I can’t breathe—it’s too _dark.”_

Tony quickly slid his arm around his kid’s shoulder as he gently wiped his tears away, “Bud, where are you talking about?”

He felt Peter freeze next to him, and fuck, not the the right thing to say.

“Hey, hey, kid, it’s me, Mr. Stark, we’re at the Compound, you’re safe, okay?”

A shaky breath and Peter nodded, burrowing himself more into his dad’s side, welcoming the warmth that hugged him.

“Homecoming night—the Vulture, he dropped this warehouse on me,” he mumbled quietly.

Tony felt his heart shatter at his confession, he had taken the suit away, it was his fault that Peter was having nightmares. Except he couldn’t dwell on that now, not when Peter hadn’t slept in over two days.

“Hey, tell you what, I’ll turn on Star Trek for you,” Tony offered, laughing when Peter looked at him weirdly.

“Star Trek, Mr. Stark I thought I taught you,” Peter said, mock offended, but Tony caught the small smile he was hiding.

“You did, and I know you’ll fall asleep to it,” Tony answered easily, “and I’ll be right here, okay, you’ll be alright.”

Peter stared at him, brown eyes too hurt and broken for someone so young—yet they were still so full of trust when they looked at him, as if he hung the moon and stars themselves.

It scared Tony how much he loved Peter, it wasn’t hard to love Peter—he was a good kid, and he was as good as his own. 

But a part of him was still scared he’d break him, say something and make him leave forever.

But as Peter nodded off against his side, the quiet volume of the movie playing in the background, Tony knew he’d do anything for his kid.

When Peter woke up, it wasn’t to a nightmare that stole his breath away or the darkness that always haunted him—it was just warm light, the smell of fresh coffee and Mr. Stark swearing as he attempted to make an omelet.

Peter grinned, warm and soft, he wasn’t tired anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are highly appreciated!
> 
> reviews and criticism are appreciated as well.
> 
> thank you so much for reading <3000


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